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  ‘Too much!’ he returned.

  Jessamy, overcoming by sheer force of will his sudden nausea, had got to his feet again. He was very pale, and he was breathing short and fast, as though he had been running. He fixed his stern eyes on Alverstoke’s face, and jerked out: ‘Lend me your phaeton, sir! I – I beg of you! I won’t drive it – Curry can do so! You have my word I won’t! Sir, you must let me have it!’

  ‘Are you proposing to chase the balloon?’ asked Alverstoke, regarding him in a little amusement.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Jessamy, don’t be so shatterbrained!’ exclaimed Buxted. ‘As though things were not bad enough already! Really, I wonder at you! This is not the moment to indulge in theatrical airdreaming!’

  ‘On the contrary!’ said Alverstoke. ‘It appears to be exactly the moment!’

  ‘Nor is it the moment for frivolous jests!’ retorted Buxted, his colour mounting again.

  ‘Sir!’ Jessamy begged. ‘Will you? will you?’

  Alverstoke shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Jessamy. The balloon is already some miles distant. Yes, I know it can still be seen, but that’s deceptive, believe me. Matters are not as desperate as Buxted would have you think, either: accidents are the exception rather than the rule.’

  ‘But they do occur!’ Jessamy said. ‘And even if all goes well Felix will be nearly dead with cold, and hasn’t any money, or – Sir, you said they would descend as soon as they can do so safely, and if only I can keep it in sight –’

  ‘Moonshine!’ snapped Buxted.

  ‘Could that be done?’ demanded Eliza, of her brother.

  ‘I daresay, but to what avail? It will come to earth long before we could be within reach of it, and however strongly they might be tempted to do so the men won’t abandon Felix. By the time we had found the place of descent – if we ever did, which I think doubtful – Felix would probably be on the way back to London in a hired chaise.’

  ‘You said yourself they would come down in open country, sir! They may be miles from any town! And if – if they don’t land safely – I must go! I tell you I must! Oh, why isn’t Harry here?’ Jessamy said, anguish in his voice.

  Frederica said: ‘Cousin … !’

  He met her eyes, reading the unspoken question in them. He smiled crookedly, shrugged, and said: ‘Very well!’

  The anxious expression melted into one of brimming gratitude. ‘Thank you! I’ve no right to ask it of you, but I should be so grateful – so very grateful!’

  ‘To think that I came here in the expectation of being bored!’ he said. ‘Eliza, I regret that I must now leave you: accept my apologies!’

  ‘Don’t give me a thought!’ she returned. ‘I shall take our cousins home, and Carlton may then drive me back to Alverstoke House.’

  He nodded, and turned to Jessamy. ‘Up with you!’

  His face transformed, Jessamy cried: ‘You’ll go with me yourself? Oh, thank you! Now we shall do!’

  Twenty

  The mood of exaltation was not of long duration. By the time the Stanhope Gate had been reached the various disasters which might threaten Felix had been recollected, and Jessamy became silent, his eyes, an instant earlier full of fiery light, sombre and frowning. As the phaeton approached the gate a smart tilbury came through it, driven by a very ugly man, dressed in the height of fashion, who no sooner clapped eyes on Alverstoke’s grays than he reined in the showy chestnut between the shafts of his own carriage, and called out: ‘Alverstoke! The very man I want!’

  The Marquis had checked his team, but he shook his head. ‘No use, Kangaroo! I haven’t an instant to spare!’

  ‘But I only want – Where the devil are you off to?’ shouted Cooke, slewing round in his seat as the phaeton passed him.

  ‘Chasing a balloon!’ Alverstoke threw over his shoulder.

  ‘Why did you say that?’ demanded Jessamy. ‘He will think you’ve run mad!’

  ‘Very likely! And it will be no more than the truth!’

  There was a moment’s silence; then Jessamy said, in a voice of resolute calm: ‘Do you mean, sir, that this is a wild goose chase?’

  ‘Oh, no!’ said Alverstoke, catching the note of anxiety, and relenting. ‘We may be behind the fair, but I’ve never yet been out-jockeyed!’

  Silence reigned for another half-mile. Jessamy broke it, saying violently: ‘He deserves to be flayed! And if we find him safe I will, too!’

  ‘Not if I have anything to say in the matter!’ replied the Marquis. ‘The thought of flaying him has been sustaining me for the past hour, and not even Harry shall rob me of that pleasure.’

  That drew a laugh from Jessamy, but he said, after a moment: ‘You had better flay me. It was my fault – all my fault!’

  ‘I was wondering how long it would be before you contrived to convince yourself that you were to blame,’ said Alverstoke caustically, ‘I haven’t the slightest wish to know how you arrived at such an addlebrained conclusion, so don’t put yourself to the trouble of telling me! If blame rests on any shoulders but Felix’s, it rests on mine! He was in my charge, not yours, I would remind you.’

  Jessamy shook his head. ‘I ought never to have left him in the enclosure. I know what he is, sir!’

  ‘Oh? You suspected, in fact, that he would risk his life in an attempt to take part in this flight?’

  ‘No. Good God, no! I never dreamed – But I did think I ought to keep an eye on him, perhaps, and – and if I hadn’t let Cousin Buxted hackle me I – I think I should have done so,’ Jessamy confessed, staring rigidly ahead. ‘My curst temper! Jealousy, self-importance, getting up in the boughs, only because my cousin took it upon himself to tell Felix to come away! And he was right!’ He buried his face in his hands, and said in a stifled voice: ‘I shall never be fit, never!’

  ‘Not, I agree, until you have got the better of your tendency to fall into distempered freaks,’ said Alverstoke unemotionally. He allowed Jessamy a moment or two to digest this blighting remark, before adding, with far more encouragement: ‘I’ve no doubt that you’ll succeed. I won’t insult you by calling you a little boy, but you are not very old yet, you know!’

  Dropping his hands, Jessamy managed to smile. ‘Yes, sir. I – I know. One should have fortitude of mind – not allow oneself to be overpowered, or to – to magnify even one’s own sins, because that’s a form of self-indulgence – don’t you think?’

  ‘Possibly. It is not one in which I’ve so far indulged,’ replied his lordship dryly.

  ‘Frederica doesn’t either. Or read curtain lectures! And she is the best person I know!’ He added, with unexpected naïveté: ‘I daresay that seems an odd thing to say of one’s sister, but it’s true, and I’m not ashamed to say so! She may not be a beauty, like Charis, but she’s – she’s –’

  ‘Worth a dozen of Charis!’ supplied his lordship.

  ‘Yes, by Jupiter, she is!’ said Jessamy, his eyes kindling.

  He relapsed after that into silence, which he broke only to return monosyllabic answers to such remarks as Alverstoke addressed to him; to ask him, once, at what speed he judged the balloon to be travelling; and once to say, in a burst of confidence: ‘It was wrong of him – very wrong, but you can’t deny he’s pluck to the backbone, sir!’

  ‘Oh, yes! Full of foolhardiness and ignorance.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose – But I couldn’t have done it!’

  ‘Thank God for that!’

  ‘I shouldn’t have had enough spunk,’ said Jessamy, making a clean breast of it.

  ‘It’s to be hoped that you have more sense!’ said Alverstoke, with asperity. ‘If, at your age, you did anything only half as hare-brained, the only place for you would be Bedlam!’

  ‘Yes – if I did it! The thing is that one can’t help feeling mortified when one’s young brother does something one knows one wouldn’t have the spunk to do oneself!’

  This betrayal of boyishness made Alverstoke laugh, but he would not tell Jessamy why, recommending him instead to keep his eyes o
n the balloon, which, except for brief periods when houses or woods obstructed their view, had all the time remained within their sight. It had risen to a considerable altitude, but it did not seem to be travelling fast, its distance from the phaeton, so far as Alverstoke could judge, being some eight or ten miles, and only slowly increasing. From the start it had sailed to the west of the road: a circumstance which several times, when it seemed to be drawing farther westward, cast Jessamy into such a fret that it was as much as he could do to bottle up his impatience. He managed to do so, however, for although he wanted to urge Alverstoke to leave the post-road, following the balloon along some lane which appeared to run directly in its wake, the saner part of his brain knew that this would be folly. Country lanes pursued erratic courses, and too often ended at some farm or hamlet. He controlled his nervous irritation, telling himself that the balloon was travelling steadily north-westward, and that when it appeared to be drawing away this was merely due to the divergences of the road from the straight; but whenever they were obliged to pull up at a toll-gate, or a pike-keeper was slow in responding to the imperative summons blown by Curry on his yard of tin, he could have screamed with exasperation. Even Alverstoke’s unruffled calm exacerbated him; and whenever Alverstoke eased his horses he had to dig his nails into the palms of his hands to keep from bursting into hot and unwise speech. It seemed as though Alverstoke wasn’t even trying to catch up with the balloon! But then, as he stole a glance at that impassive profile, he saw that Alverstoke had turned his head a little, and was looking with narrowed, measuring eyes at the balloon, and he felt better, and was able to believe that Alverstoke knew exactly what he was doing.

  Just beyond Stanmore, Alverstoke said over his shoulder: ‘Where, after Watford, can I get a change, Curry?’

  ‘I been thinking of that myself, my lord. I reckon it’ll be Berkhamsted.’

  ‘Then, if that curst balloon doesn’t come down soon I must change at Watford. I imagine it must be close above Berkhamsted now, and I’ll be damned if I kill my grays! You’ll stay with them, of course.’

  ‘How far away is Berkhamsted, sir?’ asked Jessamy.

  ‘About ten or twelve miles.’

  Dismayed, Jessamy exclaimed: ‘We are an hour behind, then!’

  ‘Rather more – probably very much more!’

  ‘Hold on, sir!’ interrupted Curry. ‘Seems to me it is coming down!’

  Jessamy stared at the balloon until his eyes watered. He brushed his hand across them, saying angrily: ‘Oh, curse this sunshine! It isn’t coming down! It’s as high as – No, by Jove, it is, it is! Look, sir!’

  Alverstoke cast a fleeting glance at it. ‘It is undoubtedly coming down. How gratifying! I said the descent would be in the region of Watford.’

  This way of receiving the glad tidings struck Jessamy, soaring into optimism, as exquisitely humorous. He gave a crack of laughter, exclaiming: ‘What a hand you are! Oh, I shouldn’t have said that! I beg your pardon, sir!’

  ‘So I should hope!’

  ‘As though you cared a button! You can’t hoax me, sir, because I know very well –’ He broke off; and after a tense moment said uneasily: ‘Why is it veering like that? It was coming down almost straight a moment ago!’

  ‘You may be seeing it from a different angle.’

  ‘No, I’m not! I mean, that wouldn’t account for the way it’s travelling now!’

  In another minute, a spinney shut the balloon from his view; and by the time the phaeton had passed the last of the trees it had dropped altogether out of sight. Jessamy began to pose unanswerable questions to the Marquis: what had caused the balloon to swerve? did he know if it could be steered in any way? did he think there might be something amiss with the valve?

  ‘I should think it more likely that when they dropped nearer to earth they found there was more wind than they had expected,’ said Alverstoke.

  Jessamy’s eyes widened. ‘Wind! Do you remember what Cousin Buxted told us, about the grapnels tearing away whole bushes, not anchoring the balloon at all, so that they had to shut the valve, which made them shoot up again, and –’

  ‘I have some faint recollection of his pitching various tales to your sisters, but as I have yet to hear him say anything worth listening to I fear I didn’t attend to him. I daresay there may have been such mischances, but as this particular balloon has not shot up into the air again it seems safe to assume that that fate has not befallen it.’

  ‘Yes, that’s so! I hadn’t thought – ah, but –’

  ‘Jessamy,’ interrupted his lordship wearily, ‘your reflections on the subject are as valueless as Buxted’s. Neither of you knows anything about it. Nor, I may add, do I, so that it is quite useless to bombard me with questions. It is even more useless to harrow yourself by imagining disasters, which really, my dear boy, you have very little reason to expect.’

  ‘You must forgive me, sir!’ said Jessamy stiffly. ‘I had no intention of boring you!’

  ‘No, that’s why I ventured to give you a hint,’ said his lordship apologetically.

  Jessamy was obliged to bite his lip at this description of a masterly set-down, and to turn his face away, so that Alverstoke should not see how near to laughter he was. He was still on his dignity when, at last, they reached Watford; but the news that met them at the Essex Arms drove all other thoughts from his mind.

  Oh, yes, said the landlord, they had seen the balloon as plain as print! Such an uproar as it had caused his lordship wouldn’t hardly credit, with everyone rushing out-of-doors to get a sight of it, and then rushing in again because it was so low they thought it was going to come down right in the middle of the town. ‘Which of course it didn’t, as any but a set of jobbernolls would have known it wouldn’t, my lord. By what I hear it came down between here and King’s Langley. And if there’s a boy in the place, barring my own lads, it’s more than I’d bargain for! They was all off, and others old enough to know better than to take part in such foolishness, for they might have known they wouldn’t see the balloon land, and where’s the sense of running miles to look at it on the ground?’

  ‘How long ago was it when it came down?’ Jessamy asked eagerly.

  ‘Well, I can’t rightly say, sir,’ replied the landlord, smiling indulgently at him. ‘It was an hour ago when it came by the town – maybe an hour-and-a-half.’

  Jessamy’s shining eyes lifted to Alverstoke’s; a smile wavered on his lips; he said simply: ‘The relief of it! How far is that place – King’s Langley?’

  ‘Just a matter of five miles, sir. But I don’t believe all I hear, and there’s no saying that the balloon did come down there. All I say is that none of those cod’s heads that went chasing after it has come back yet, so if they ain’t still gawking at it where it lays they’re maybe following it into the next county!’

  ‘I see,’ said Alverstoke. ‘You can draw me a tankard of your home-brewed. Order what you like, Jessamy: I’m going to have a word with Curry.’

  He strode out of the inn as he spoke, to find Curry and the head ostler leading the grays towards the stables. He ran his experienced eye over his horses. They were sweating, but not distressed. Curry said, with pride: ‘Prime ’uns, my lord! Didn’t I say to your lordship they’d go well upon wind?’

  Alverstoke nodded, but Curry saw that he was slightly frowning, and looked an enquiry. ‘They’ve taken no hurt, my lord. I’ll give ’em some warm gruel, and –’

  ‘Yes, see that done, and give the ostler exact instructions. I’m taking you on with me.’

  ‘Very good, my lord. Nothing wrong, I do hope?’

  ‘I’m not sure. No need to say anything to Mr Jessamy, but there’s no question that when we last saw the balloon it was being borne off its course. Well, if the wind took it, the country is fairly open, and it may have made a safe landing.’

  ‘No reason why it shouldn’t have, my lord.’

  ‘None, but it appears that none of the people who ran off to see it have yet returned. If there was no
thing more to look at than the boat, and the empty bag, what should be keeping them so long?’

  ‘Well, your lordship knows what boys are!’ suggested Curry.

  ‘I do indeed! But they were not all boys. I may have become infected by Mr Jessamy’s alarms, but I’ve a feeling I may need you. Fifteen minutes!’

  He went back into the inn, to find Jessamy refreshing himself from a large tankard. He lowered it, with a sigh of satisfaction, and handed a similar one to the Marquis, saying: ‘Lord, I was thirsty! Here’s yours, sir: the ale-draper says it’s a regular knock-me-down!’

  ‘In that case, you will shortly be top-heavy, and I shall abandon you, so that you may sleep it off at your leisure.’

  ‘Well, I thought I might be a trifle overtaken, so I ordered a half-and-half for myself.’

  ‘Thank God for that!’

  Jessamy laughed, but said, a little shyly: ‘I expect I’ve plagued you enough already, with my – my distempered freaks, sir.’

  ‘Now, what can I have said to make you think so?’ demanded Alverstoke, in astonished accents.

  ‘You may choose to poke bogey at me, but you know very well, sir! Such a set-down – ! I – I am afraid I took snuff, and I shouldn’t have done so!’

  ‘Handsomely said!’ approved Alverstoke. ‘But if you took that for one of my set-downs – !’

  ‘Well, if it wasn’t I hope you’ll never give me one,’ said Jessamy frankly. ‘Sir, when do we set forward again? I have been thinking, and I shouldn’t wonder at it if we met them on their way back to London. Except that – what becomes of the balloon?’

  ‘I haven’t the least idea. It’s a nice point, I admit.’

  ‘It occured to me a minute ago. They can’t carry it, and they can’t fill the bag again, because where would they get the hydrogen? And all those casks couldn’t be brought on the wagon – at least, they could, but it would take them all day to get here, even if they knew where the thing meant to make its descent, which they never do.’